


Stardew Crossed Lovers And Other Tales

by Frea_O



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Childhood Friends, First Meetings, Multi, Pre-OT3, military brat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 07:32:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17076047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frea_O/pseuds/Frea_O
Summary: Snapshots of Abigail, Sam, and Sebastian growing up, growing wiser, and growing together.





	Stardew Crossed Lovers And Other Tales

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Steve](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steve/gifts).



> Hey, recip! I really enjoyed your prompts and am even now watching _Don't Trust the B_ because that superhero prompt is everything to me (but I didn't have time)! I hope you like the story I've crafted about these three locals just trying to make their way through the world. :D

_Year One, Spring, Day Two_

The first time Abigail and Sebastian met, she hit him hard enough that he cried.

In her defense, he’d broken the purple crayon and that was her favorite. In his defense, they were three years old. She was given a time out and a scolding while his tears were soothed—before he too was given a scolding about treating toys with respect.

The next day, he brought another, more purple crayon—this one mostly whole—to playtime. All was forgiven.

They’d been friends ever since. And that was part of the problem.

_Year Eleven, Summer, Day Twenty-Seven_

Pelican Town didn’t get many newcomers, so a family moving in to old McReady’s house just a year after Granny’s grandkid came to town—well, it was news in a town that didn’t get a lot of that, either. Sebastian couldn’t really remember the last time another family had moved in. This one apparently had a baby and a kid his age. It would be nice to have another guy there, since Alex could only talk about protein shakes and hitting home runs in football.

He had Abigail, sure, and that was nice even though she was currently drooling onto the copy of _The Old Wayfarer_ that they were supposed to be studying. But Abigail had Penny, Haley, _and_ Emily to giggle over things with, and he just had _Do You Even Lift, Bro?_ for that kind of teenage solidarity.

(Sebastian did not lift. Sebastian did not see the point.)

And Abigail was…well, she’d been his best friend even longer than he could remember. But now Sebastian squirmed in his seat. He’d been having dreams lately, and if Abigail ever found out about them she would flip out worse than the time her dad had found the katana she’d bought online and had tried to take it away. So maybe the new kid would be better, or at least less of a minefield.

As if summoned by his thoughts alone, the new kid appeared in the doorway of the museum where they’d all gathered to study. Even Maru looked up from her textbook for once, though she returned to her studies just as quickly.

Sebastian did not. Sebastian felt like staring.

“Uh, hey,” the kid said. He had spiky blond hair and braces, and the thickest city accent Sebastian had ever heard. “Mayor Lewis told me this is where the…school…is?”

He looked around in utter bafflement at the empty museum shelves.

“We don’t really have a real school,” Haley said without looking away from where she was adjusting her hair in her compact. “This dump is way too small for that.”

“We make our own classes.” Ever the opposite side of her sister’s coin, Emily perked up. “It’s kind of like a Montessori school that way!”

The new kid kept blinking. “Right,” he said.

“Sit anywhere you like,” Penny said, giving him an extra big smile. Because she was inevitably the nicest of all of them, she introduced herself and listed off everybody else’s names, too. Alex, who’d snuck his barbells into the museum again, grunted an acknowledgment. Abigail slept right through it. Sebastian gave a dorky little wave.

Sebastian expected the new kid—Sam—to gravitate toward Penny and Maru’s table, but instead he looked around and then made his way to the back of the room. “Must be an interesting book,” he said, nodding at Abigail. “Is this seat taken?”

“All yours,” Sebastian said.

“There’s really no school here?”

“Welcome to the Valley,” Sebastian said. Without quite knowing why, he added, “I’m getting out of here as soon as I can. Putting it in my rearview and never looking back.”

“You have a car?” Sam asked.

Sebastian hoped his face wasn’t turning red. It felt hot. “Um. No. It’s—it’s just an expression. I’m too young to drive.”

“Oh. Right. What’s there to do around here? I brought my skateboard but there’s like, two paved roads tops.” Sam bobbed his head, and Sebastian wondered if all city kids dressed in such bright colors like that. “Mom says maybe I could take up fishing or something. We moved here ’cause my dad’s probably going to ship out soon and this place is a lot cheaper than the city.”

“And quieter, too,” Sebastian said. “But stuff to do? I don’t know. Abigail and I usually play video games or just walk around.”

He glanced over. Abigail was still drooling, but it was really cute the way her nose scrunched up while she slept.

“Does she usually do that?” Sam asked in a whisper, though they’d been talking at normal volume before.

Sebastian grinned. “Yeah. Watch this.”

Smirking, he reached out and gently flicked the end of Abigail’s nose. She shot bolt upright with a loud enough bang that even Gunther looked toward her. “What! What? I wasn’t sleeping, I swear.”

“Good morning, sunshine,” Sebastian said.

“Oh shut up, I wasn’t sleeping. I was just thinking about—who are you?” She blinked at Sam.

“I’m Sam,” he said, and laughed, his entire face lighting up with such amusement that Abigail started laughing, too.

Sebastian, on the other hand, wanted to squirm in his seat as the laughter evoked that same _intense_ feeling in his stomach that Abigail sometimes did.

So much for the new kid not being a minefield. Maybe that was just what it meant to have a good friend.

_Year Twelve, Winter Day Four_

Though Sam volunteered to stay back and watch baby Vincent so his mom could see his dad off, Jodi shooed him through the door instead. And so Sam found himself walking beside Kent with his hands in his pockets and a lump in his throat as they made their way down to the docks.

He almost wanted to be a kid again. Back when he was younger, he’d understood that his father was gone a lot, but he’d never realized why. But last year in the city, his teacher had shown the class videos sent from the front lines of the war between Ferngill and Gotoro, and Sam hadn’t been able to sleep for nearly a week after that. Was that what it was like for his dad when he shipped out? Or was it worse?

Kent cleared his throat. “You’ll take care of your mom while I’m gone?”

“Yes, Dad.”

“And Vincent. He’ll need his big brother.”

“Right.” Sam clenched his jaw to push down the lump in his throat. “They didn’t say how long you were going to be gone this time, did they?”

“For as long as I need to be. I don’t know how long that is.” The trudge across the sand to the dock sometimes felt like it took ages, but it passed too quickly now. Sam never wanted it to end, but all too soon, they reached the end of the dock and the waiting boat. Kent tossed his duffel into the boat and turned to Sam.

Sam must not have hid the fact that he wanted to cry very well. “Hey, hey,” Kent said, hugging him. “You know I’m always going to do whatever it takes to come back to the three of you, right? And the war can’t go on forever.”

It just feels like it, Sam wanted to say. He only nodded and clung to his dad, trying not to sniffle into Kent’s uniform, until Kent stepped back. “Hey, do me a favor, kid. Try to have a little fun while I’m gone? I know I said take care of your mom, but live a little, too. Get in some trouble—just not too much, okay?”

“Okay, Dad.”

Kent looked beyond Sam. “And you two keep an eye on him?”

Surprised, Sam turned to see Abigail and Sebastian sitting in front of Willy’s shop. Abigail had been bundled into a blanket and Sebastian clutched his cocoa like a lifeline.

“We’ll do our best,” Abigail said, around a yawn. Sebastian gave Sam a little wave, and Sam tried not to get choked up.

With a final hug and a hair ruffle—“ _Dad_ , c’mon!”—Kent hopped onto the boat and stood at the railing as it pulled away. Sebastian and Abigail picked themselves up off the dock and came to stand on either side of Sam, waving. None of them spoke until the boat had dwindled from sight.

Finally, Abigail gave a sleepy grunt. “I bet we can wake up my dad and bully him into making more cocoa so Sebastian can join the land of the living.”

“Mean,” Sebastian said, mostly into his remaining cocoa.

Sam all of a sudden wanted to laugh. “Even better,” he said. “Mom’s awake and she probably has cocoa started already.”

“Excellent.” Abigail looped an arm through his. “Lead the way.”

_Year Thirteen, Fall, Day Thirteen_

All in all, Abigail was having a pretty normal morning until she looked in the mirror.

Most girls on their sixteenth birthday might expect some bedhead or maybe a small or not-so-small breakout. Abigail, on the other hand, blinked her eyes open and discovered that her hair was now a vibrant, unmistakable, completely unnatural shade of…purple.

(It would occur to her later that the shade matched perfectly to an ancient crayon she had stuffed into a little keepsake treasure chest Sebastian had made her when they were ten. But right now she was too busy having a panic attack as she had definitely not dyed her hair last night but it was _still purple_.)

“Abby?” Her dad knocked on the door. “Are you okay? I thought I heard screaming.”

“N-no, Dad, I’m fine! Completely fine!” Sure, her voice was coming out an octave too high and her hair had mysteriously changed color overnight but she was _fine_.

Pierre didn’t seem to believe her. “You don’t sound fine. Open the door?”

“I—I—” Abigail cast about for some excuse. Her parents were going to kill her and they would never ever believe she hadn’t done this herself. “Dad, really, I’m okay!”

“Open. The. Door.”

Abigail hastily snatched up a towel and wrapped her hair up. “What?” she snapped, opening up the door. “See? I’m fine. Nosy much?”

“Don’t give me that attitude, Abigail.” But mercifully, the towel seemed to work, for her dad shot her one last confused look and went on his way, leaving Abigail to freak out in peace.

Her first instinct was to call Sebastian but she remembered seeing him on chat at like two a.m. He’d never wake up. So instead she called Sam, hoping he wasn’t already on his way to Jojamart. Her body nearly went limp with relief when he answered.

“Please tell me you have purple hair dye,” she said.

* * *

It felt like an eternity, but her cell phone told her only twenty minutes had passed before there was a tapping at the window. “Move over,” Sam said, grunting as he hauled himself through.

He landed a little heavily and for a second, neither of them so much as breathed.

“Oh, thank god, Dad must be in the shop already.” Abigail wanted to pace, but with Sam in the bathroom with her, the space suddenly felt so much more confining. It occurred to her rather too late that Sam was now standing in a tight space with her and she was wearing a too-small pajama T-shirt and no bra. She folded her arms over her chest. “Please tell me you found some.”

“Yeah, Mom had some. It’s pretty old, I don’t think it’ll even work.” Sam scratched the back of his neck as he held out a small canvas sack.

“That’s okay,” Abigail said. “I just need the boxes.”

“What? What kind of emergency is this, anyway? Do all girls make a big thing out of dyeing their hair?” Sam just looked bewildered.

“I’m not dyeing my hair.”

“Then why do you need the dye?”

Abigail yanked off the towel wrapped around her hair. To his credit, Sam only blinked. “Because of this!”

“If you dyed it already, why did you need—”

“I didn’t. I woke up like this!”

Sam blinked. “That’s not possible.”

“And yet, here we are.” Abigail pulled out the boxes of hair dye and carefully removed the contents. “I don’t know how it happened. I can’t think of anything. It’s not like I sleep-walked and dyed my own hair, it doesn’t smell like that. Maybe it’s another Weird.”

“Another what?” Sam asked.

Sebastian hadn’t told him, Abigail realized. Maybe it was because they’d both lived in Pelican Town so long that these kind of things were normal to them. Everybody just accepted the sometimes strange happenstances all over the Valley, like the rustling that came from the old Community Center, or that half the town swore they’d seen the ghost of the old farmer out near his grave site on the abandoned farm.

“Things just happen in this town. Weird things. Like…magic,” she said.

“You’re saying somebody magically dyed your hair? While you were sleeping?” Sam mimicked her pose and crossed his arms over his chest, looking skeptical. It only made his shoulders, which had filled out over the summer, look even broader. “That’s a bit of a stretch.”

“I don’t have any other explanation, do you?”

“Well, no.”

Abigail dumped out most of the dye and made sure to splash a little on the boxes. She needed to wet her hair down, she realized, in order to really sell this to her mom that she’d dyed her own hair. When she turned to twist on the faucet, she found Sam staring at her. “Do I have something on my face?” she asked.

Sam jolted and, interestingly, turned bright red. “No,” he said. “Nothing. I was just thinking…”

“Thinking what?”

“Well, I know it wasn’t intentional, but it looks really cute?” Sam looked a bit like he wanted to climb back through the window.

Abigail felt herself blushing and abruptly ducked her head under the frigid water to wet her hair down. It gave her a few seconds to breathe in a room that suddenly felt devoid of oxygen.

When she surfaced and wrapped a towel around her actual wet hair, Sam was frowning and the moment had passed. “Why did you call me and not Sebastian?” he asked. “I thought he was your go-to for stuff like that. Since you’re…”

“Since we’re what?” Abigail asked.

Sam winced. “Nothing. Never mind. Forget I said anything.”

Before she could tell him that Sebastian never would have answered the phone, she heard footsteps in the hallway. Her dad called, “Abby? Is somebody in there with you? Hello?”

“Prepare for the a-Pierre-calypse,” Abigail said to Sam, who groaned. She opened the door to face her fate.

_Year Fifteen, Summer, Day Twenty-Three_

Sebastian knew it was fair to say that his new bike had taken up a lot of time lately, but canceling band practice really was a step too far. And then, to make matters worse, Sam all but disappeared into the museum. It felt like _weeks_ since Sebastian had said more than “Hi” and “Oh, sorry, I’ll catch you later then” to him.

“Did I say something to upset him?” Sebastian asked Abigail, who shrugged and poked out her tongue as she hit the right combo on her controller. “Why does it feel like he’s mad at me, then?”

“You need to figure that out on your own,” Abigail said.

“What the hell do you mean by that?”

“You need to figure that out on your own,” Abigail repeated.

Sebastian flopped back on her bed, covered his face with her pillow, and groaned. “Any ideas, Doug?” he asked.

Unsurprisingly, the guinea pig proved just as helpful as his owner.

As much as Sebastian wanted to go hunt Sam down—he was the best of them, the cheerful one, whose good humor stood like a shield between Abigail and Sebastian and their dark days—his project was almost due rendering and he didn’t want to miss the deadline he’d promised his client. But it was a long, cold, and puzzling trudge up the mountaintop. He thought he’d heard Abigail mutter something about “two idiots figuring it out” as he’d left, but he couldn’t be sure. She’d always understood Sam better than him _and_ they were always flirting and teasing each other.

Really, Sebastian was doing them a favor getting out of here when he got his bike fixed up. Then he wouldn’t be the awkward third wheel, and he wouldn’t have to be around and experience the excruciating jealousy. It was best for everyone.

But _he_ was the one who was supposed to be leaving, so why did it feel like Sam already had? He didn’t sleep much at all—and one of Maru’s experiments blowing up at three a.m. and rattling the whole house didn’t help—as he turned that question over in his mind. In the morning, he didn’t have the faintest clue what Abigail could have been talking about.

_Day Twenty-Eight_

“Sebby, we’re about to leave to see the jellies!” Maru stomped into the garage to change out of her rain boots.

Sebastian grunted and finally managed to loosen the nut he’d been working at. Not for the fiftieth time that day, he wished Sam were there, as Sam wouldn’t have any trouble with it. But Sam wasn’t even returning his calls anymore.

And because of that: “I think I’m gonna skip it this year, Mar,” he said.

“Okay,” Maru said, and left.

For all the trouble he had with the rest of his family, at least Maru was simple like that. She might speak bluntly and without regard for feelings but she accepted people at their word. Unfortunately, she was the only one who did.

Which was why Sebastian groaned to himself at hearing the door open again. His stepfather’s footsteps were unmistakable on the concrete.

“Maru said you’re not going to the festival?” Demetrius asked.

Sebastian, out of sight under his bike, closed his eyes and prayed for patience. “No, I’m in the middle of something.”

“The jellies only visit one night, Sebastian. And their phosphorescence is a scientific marvel.”

“I’ll see them next year,” Sebastian said, though he planned to be long gone.

“You know how much this festival means to your mother.”

Please, as if Demetrius really knew anything about his mother. She did all the emotional heavy lifting around there. And didn’t his feelings matter, too? He didn’t want to go. If Sam didn’t want to see him, he didn’t want to see Sam. If the damn bike didn’t have so many faulty parts, he would’ve already slipped away into the night.

But as usual, it just wasn’t worth it to deal with the nagging. Demetrius was like a dog with a bone, never mind that it wasn’t his bone, and if he got started, then Mom would eventually get wind of it and Sebastian would never hear the end of it. So he sighed and threw the wrench to the side. “Fine, Demetrius, I’ll go.”

Demetrius got that pinched look on his face, but luckily he’d at least learned not to start with the _You know it’s okay to call me Dad_ lecture.

And so it was that Sebastian found himself trundling down from the mountains with his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his hoodie. Maru walked next to him, happily reciting facts about her latest experiments and not caring at all that he wasn’t listening. He tried not to glare at Demetrius’s back the whole time.

On the docks it wasn’t hard to spot his group in their usual spot, with Sam’s bright blond hair shining like a beacon in the moonlight. Sebastian ignored the normal tight feeling in his gut at the sight of either of his best friends. He gave them a little wave and went over to sit by Penny instead, dropping down onto the dock so he could dangle his feet over the water. He was far enough away that Lewis probably wouldn’t see him and scold.

“Well, this is an honor,” Penny said. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I can’t have just missed talking to you?” Sebastian asked.

Penny smiled. “I was teasing. Though it’s strange to see the Golden Trio split up at this festival. I thought you three were surgically joined at the hip.”

Sebastian shrugged, not sure what to say to that.

“Uh-oh,” Penny said. “I hit a sore spot.”

“No, it’s okay,” Sebastian said, but Sam chose that moment to glance over and look away just as quickly. Sebastian sighed. “Or maybe not. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay. How’s the new motorcycle?”

Though he wasn’t much for small talk, Penny fell into a different category, so he found himself telling her about all of the parts he’d replaced. Sam wouldn’t know a carburetor from a car horn, but Penny seemed to follow along perfectly. Sebastian lost complete track of time until Vincent shouted, “There they are!”

He leaned over the water so far that Penny scrabbled for his arm. The jellies always swarmed under both sides of the dock, lighting the water in all directions and giving them a quicksilver look into another world. He’d been coming to the festival since he was two and every year, the silky light never failed to fascinate him.

“Sebastian! _Sebastian_! Penny! It’s here! Come quick!” Abigail waved frantically. Sebastian and Penny exchanged a look and took off, Sebastian crossing the distance with his longer legs more quickly. Sam grabbed his elbow to keep him from falling off the edge of the dock and Abigail clutched his elbow.

All three of them and Penny stared in wordless wonder. The green jelly drifted below, glowing beautifully as it cut its way through the ranks of his brethren. Sebastian had only seen it once before, the year Sam had moved to Pelican Town. He’d forgotten how delicate it looked against the other jellies, the green aura bobbing along.

He would miss this, he realized in a staggering blow. He might have found Pelican Town claustrophobic and horrible at times, but now he looked around, taking in the faces of the other townsfolk. All of them gazed at the water, enraptured by the jellies.

Sam, however, met his gaze and turned away. He shoved his hands in his pockets and walked off.

“You should probably follow him,” Abigail said without looking away from the water. Absently, she added, “Good luck.”

Very few people even noticed Sam or Sebastian leave, he noted. And Sam didn’t go far; he picked his way up the sand dune at the edge of the beach that was blocked off to most people by the wood pile. They’d found the secret path and sneaked off to smoke before they were old enough to do so legally. Sebastian followed him, grimacing every time the sand gave way and he slid down.

Sam flopped down on the sand and pulled out a pack of smokes, his face unreadable. He offered one to Sebastian, but neither of them said a word.

Finally, Sebastian sighed. “Abigail won’t tell me why you’re mad at me, and I can’t think of anything.”

“I’m not mad.”

“Really? Because you’re doing a great impression of it, then.”

Sam flexed the fingers on his right hand. “It’s nothing.”

He’d avoided talking to Sebastian for days over _nothing_? Hurt began to spread like a virus.

“Nothing you did wrong, anyway.” Sam sounded tired. He stubbed out his cigarette. “You got your motorcycle.”

“I got most of a motorcycle. A lot of it’s…less than what it should be.” Sebastian made a face.

Sam turned to give him a look. “So that’s why you’re not already gone?”

Sebastian jerked a shoulder. The unease in his stomach felt sharp and sickly. “Mostly.”

“But you _are_ going.”

“I don’t know.” Sebastian scrubbed a hand through his hair, mussing up the careful swoop of his bangs he’d styled that morning. Guilt joined the unease. “Maybe. I just can’t stay in that house much longer, not with _him_ there. It’s like going crazy by inches.”

Sam stayed quiet.

“And it’s not like I have a lot of options or anything. I can do my programming anywhere, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“So why are you mad?”

“I’m not mad.” Sam flicked the cigarette into the coffee can they’d secreted away to their hiding spot. He missed, as usual, and had to scuttle over and put it in correctly. “You’re leaving Abigail behind.”

“You’ll have each other.” The way it was supposed to be, Sebastian reminded himself.

“But it won’t be the same without you. The three of us. We _need_ you.”

“Then come with me,” Sebastian said.

“I can’t.” Sam’s voice broke, but he stayed facing away from Sebastian. “You don’t get it, do you? I have to be here, I can’t leave. Mom needs me, and Vincent—we don’t know how long Dad will be gone or if he’s even coming back. I can’t just pick up and go, like you or Abigail could.”

“Oh,” Sebastian said. He hadn’t thought about that. To him, the motorcycle had always stood for freedom, for the wind in his hair.

For Sam, it had portended the end of a friendship.

“I know I can’t ask you to stay,” Sam went on, finally looking over his shoulder so that his eyes met Sebastian’s. “I _know_ there’s nothing for you here but Abigail and me, and we’re not enough. And I can’t ask that of you, I know how much things suck at home for you. So I’m not mad, I’m just…I don’t know what I am anymore. At least promise me you’ll tell me before you go.”

Sebastian’s heart sank in his chest. “You know I’d write. And visit. And call.”

“I know.” But Sam’s voice told him it wouldn’t help much at all. “You’re a good friend, Sebastian.”

Clearly not, if he’d had no idea this was all going on, Sebastian thought. Sam sat back down next to him on the dune and they stayed where they were, watching the faint glow of the departing jellies in silence.

“You’re going to have amazing adventures out there,” Sam finally said. “Send postcards, yeah?”

Sebastian said nothing. Suddenly the adventures _out there_ didn’t hold nearly the same appeal as they had before Sam’s confession.

_Year Fifteen, Fall, Day Seven_

Abigail woke up on a Sunday morning—well, early afternoon—to two texts.

Sam’s was a joking **U up? __**sent at 8 a.m. on his way to work, when he most assuredly knew she would not be awake. The other came from Sebastian at around the same time. It was a surprise, given that he was just as much of a slug-a-bed as she was in the mornings. And unlike Sam’s text, it was cryptic:

**JojaMart. 2 p.m.**

**__**

What the hell could he want with that place? Abigail brushed her hair—still purple, though she’d noticed that it tended to change slightly with her mood—and her teeth, pulled on a light jacket, and crossed the bridge to where the JojaMart had once stood. It had been wrecked by a freak storm the year before, and none of them still understood why the tornado had only taken that place, but had left the town untouched.

Abigail didn’t miss it. Frankly it had been a big blue eyesore and she was glad it was gone. Why Sebastian would ever want to meet there, she had no idea. It might have had something to do with the fact that he’d been broody even by Sebastian standards for the past week, she considered.

That same fact was why she did a double-take when she spotted Sebastian sitting on the old sign—the only thing left standing.

Sebastian was smiling. And that was a look she hadn’t seen on his face since they’d wheeled his new motorbike into the garage together.

“Oh, good, you’re awake in time,” he said. “I wasn’t sure you would be.”

“Ha, ha,” Abigail said. “You’re going to trip and fall to your death up there, you know.”

Because Sam wasn’t the only smartass in their group, Sebastian did a little tap dance right there on top of the sign.

“Jerk,” Abigail said without feeling. She looked around, making sure there weren’t any parents or parental snitches in sight, then raised her arm toward him. “Give me a hand up.”

Gamely, Sebastian hauled her up on the sign. She stumbled a little and bumped into his chest, laughing as she did so. He’d showered recently, and he always smelled like the mountains and a faint tinge of smoke, which she associated with both of her boys.

“Okay, Sebastian, time to tell me what we’re doing up here.”

He grinned. “Look around you,” he said in a deep voice. He waved at the old JojaMart site, fingers spread ostentatiously. “Look, Abigail. Everything the light touches is our kingdom.”

“Did you smoke a bowl before you came out here?” She laughed and sniffed him. “You don’t smell like it.”

“Nope!” He smiled. “The only thing I’m high on is life. Good, there’s Sam, right on time.”

Sure enough, the third member of their intrepid trio was strolling up from the path behind Clint’s farm. “Have the two of you lost your minds entirely?” he called up to them.

“Just Sebastian!” Abigail called back.

“Come up, come up,” Sebastian said, gesturing.

Between the two of them, they managed to haul Sam up onto the sign, which creaked a little but mostly stayed put. Sebastian absolutely refused to answer any of their questions, though Sam and Abigail peppered them at him. Instead, they all sat down, and he pulled three bottles of pale ale out of his backpack (though he made a face).

“It was all the farmstead had on hand. The hops must be good this year,” he said, passing each of them a bottle. “But we needed something to toast.”

“What are we even toasting to? What are we doing on this sign? This is nuts, Seb,” Sam said.

Sebastian popped the top. “I sold my motorcycle.”

“What?” Sam asked.

“What?” Abigail echoed. Sebastian loved that bike. Personally she thought it was a piece of junk, but Sebastian had been dreaming of that bike for years. He’d been a kid on Christmas morning when they’d wheeled it off of Pam’s bus and, huffing and puffing, pushed it up the side of a mountain. And now he’d just _sold_ it?

Sam, on Abigail’s other side, was gaping at him. “But _why_?” he asked.

“I wanted to buy this place.” Sebastian gestured.

“You bought the JojaMart land?” Abigail asked, all of it clicking into place.

“But _why_?” Sam repeated.

“It’s a good distance to all of our parents’ places,” Sebastian said. “I figured we’d build a house here. Studio in the basement, library for Sam, the best games system for Abigail. It’s close to all of the houses, near the museum, we can put in a guest bedroom if Vincent wants to stay the night and…why are you looking at me like that?”

Sam and Abigail exchanged a look. It raced through her head that Sebastian wasn’t leaving, that he was _staying_ and things would still be good. They’d all still have each other, and Sam could stop moping and go back to the chipper soul that kept the pair of them afloat. And Sebastian wouldn’t be out having adventures without them.

Sam broke first. “Seriously? A house?” He tackled them both in a hug that would have sent them all flying off the sign had Abigail not grabbed onto it. “You’re staying here!”

“I’m staying here!”

“We’re going to have a house, and parties, and a band!” Sam squeezed both of them tighter until Abigail found herself crushed between her two best friends (a place she did not mind in the slightest, she discovered, and that was an interesting thought to explore later). “It’s gonna be great!”

“Yes,” Abigail said. But a thought occurred to her. “Um, Sebastian?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you even know how to build a house?”

Sebastian made a _pfft_ sound. “I’m the son of a carpenter, how hard could it be? It’ll be fine! See, I’ve got the blueprints right here.”

He reached into his bag and unrolled a wide blue sheaf of papers. Together, the three of them studied it, eyes going wide at the lines and measurements and numbers on top of numbers.

“On second thought, maybe I’ll ask Mom for help,” Sebastian said, and this time they nearly fell off the sign from laughter.


End file.
